Red Ribbon of Fate
by Cherokee Bonnefoy-Jones
Summary: The story of how France came to own the ribbon he always wears when he puts his hair up. chibi France and England, along with an appearance by Scotland.


I need to get bored more often, it seems.

* * *

England watched as France cooked, and finally realized something - France's hair was really long and always in his face. That got him to start thinking. Wouldn't it be easier if France had something to tie his hair up with? Then his hair wouldn't get into the food either. Without a word, the smaller nation slipped out of the chair and grabbed his cloak as well as his bow and quiver of arrows. France always told him he should always have his bow and arrows with him when he left the house, and there were a few times he was glad he'd listened to the advice.

Reaching town, he made sure he still had the small coins France gave him for doing certain chores. Usually the two would come in town together and spend the money on treats, but this time what he was buying wasn't for himself. Finally, emerald eyes landed on the small shop where France bought fabric to make the younger country's clothes. The lady that made the cloth was really nice and always gave him a snack if France took too long looking at the different fabrics.

"Arthur? What are you doing here all by yourself? What if you'd gotten hurt?"

"Sorry," the boy apologized to her. "But I had to come by myself to get a present for Francis." Those were the names they used around humans, because humans weren't supposed to know they existed. He then presented the coins he'd brought with him. "I wanted to get Francis something to tie his hair up with when he cooks," the child explained.

The cloth maker smiled at him and took two of the coins, leading the young country over to the various ribbons she had for when she made dresses. "I'm sure you would like to pick the color." It didn't take long before she found herself cutting a length of red ribbon and put it in a box so it wouldn't get dirty. "Now be safe going home, alright?"

England nodded and left the shop, only to come face to knee cap with his big brother. This was _not _how he wanted his day to end. Hopefully France had noticed he was missing by now.

"Now, lad, wha' were ye doin' in tha' l'il sissy shop? Getting that sissy boy some fabric to make a hankie?"

Why did it have to be Scotland? Why couldn't it be Wales? Wales was so much better than Scotland, even if he did still pick on him. He really hoped France was looking for him.

"C'mon, lad, tell yer big brother wha' ye got the frog."

England held the box tightly to his side with one hand, not wanting his brother to see it. Scotland really didn't want him being around France for some reason, but he really didn't have a choice since he was being taken care of by the French nation at the moment. But now Scotland had crossed a line. Only England was allowed to call France a frog.

Now Scotland knelt down to his level and ruffled his already messy blond hair. Why did his brother have to be so brutish? They were so different, even though they were brothers. Scotland was rude and a bully, while England tried being nice, was small and bullied by other countries like his brother and Denmark.

"Iain, get away from 'im!" This caused the Scottish teen to stand up and look back to the source of the shouting.

"So, come to save the wee lad, 'ave ye, Francy?"

France walked passed the Scot and got to England's level. "Are you alright, mon petit lapin?" England just nodded and slowly hid the box behind his back without France noticing, praying his brother didn't say anything about it. Smiling at his charge softly, he began his failing attempts to flatten the younger boy's messy hair. When he finally gave up, he pick up the younger boy and glared at Scotland before carrying the child in his arms to the safety of home. That's when he became serious. "Angleterre, why did you leave wizout telling me?"

"I'm sorry, but I had to get something."

"Oh? Was it so important you couldn't 'ave waited until after dinner?" He didn't get a response, but didn't press the issue and continued the walk home in silence.

Once in the house, he put the boy down and took his bow and arrows to be put in their corner and hung up his green, tattered cloak. Sometimes he wished England would let him fix it. Turning back to face his ward, he was surprised to find the boy shoving a small box at him, not bothering to look up. He just took it and opened the lid, surprised to see the ribbon.

"Mon petit lapin, what is zis for?" the French boy asked, slightly confused.

Why did France have to make him feel so embarrassed? "To put your hair up so it's not in your face when you cook. And to say thank you for being so nice to me."

The older boy smiled at him and put up his hair with the new ribbon before kissing the younger boy's forehead. "You're welcome, mon petit lapin. Now sit and eat. You let your dinner get cold, and I'm not 'eating it up just because you got me zis lovely ribbon." England did as he was told, but didn't mind so much. This was better than going to bed hungry, which is what France said he'd never do because of what happened before they started living together. After dinner, England helped France as best he could with the dishes and they went to bed. On days when England had run into his brother, France let him sleep in his bed, just so the younger country knew he wasn't alone again. He knew it was silly, but it had happened many times before, and he was glad France agreed to it, because it meant France didn't hate him.

~1,000 years later~

"You damn frog! I'm going to cut your hair completely off one of these days! Maybe then you'll stop wearing that damn ribbon all the time!"

"Ohonhon. But why? You did get it for me to wear, non?"

The meeting room went silent as the other countries looked at each other, then at the two arguing nations. So _that's _where he got that ribbon. Well, that's one mystery solved. Now on to find out how England had gotten that tattoo none of them had wished they'd seen at the last New Year's party.


End file.
